


Mending

by spellingbee



Series: danger days ficlets [12]
Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)
Genre: (minor kobra kid/fun ghoul), (minor party poison/jet star), Blanket Permission, Canon Compliant, Fluff, Gen, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Party Poison (Danger Days), POV Third Person Limited, Podfic Welcome, The Fabulous Killjoys (Danger Days) Are Not MCR
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:46:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27181985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spellingbee/pseuds/spellingbee
Summary: Party Poison notices that one of Ghoul's shirts needs a little TLC and takes it upon themself to fix it.They've got to be stealthy about it, though.
Relationships: Fun Ghoul & Party Poison (Danger Days), Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: danger days ficlets [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1390834
Comments: 8
Kudos: 26





	Mending

**Author's Note:**

> hewwo!! hope you're all doing well this fine day! 🐝 i wrote this for my fiance the other day, and i hope you enjoy it too! 💖
> 
> BIG thank you to my friend [pink](https://hyperthrust.tumblr.com/) for beta-reading this!!!

Party quietly opens the door to Ghoul and Kobra's bedroom. They hold their breath, listening; but they don't hear anything. No talking, no snoring, no breathing. The two of them are most definitely out, then. 

Satisfied, they step into the room and, stumbling over the clutter strewn across the floor, make their way over to the window and pull the blinds up with a _snap._ Light floods the room, and they quickly take stock.

Metal and wire lay jumbled up with fabric and empty food packages. There's a small pile of what looks to be wood shavings sitting next to their mattress. Three radios lay side by side in one corner, mechanical guts spilling out. 

Leaning down, they pick up the first shirt they come across--but no, that's one of Kobra's. They drop it back to the floor and grab the next one. No, still Kobra's. They try again. And again. And again, until finally they find what they're looking for--and their nose tells them they've succeeded before their eyes do.

_"Eeyuck,"_ they can't help but mutter, holding the black-and-yellow T-shirt aloft. It's definitely Ghoul's shirt. Too small to belong to Jet or Kobra, too stained and absolutely _reeking_ to belong to anyone _but_ Ghoul.

They drop it back to the floor, then pick it back up using only the very tips of their thumb and forefinger. _Gross._ Doesn't Ghoul _ever_ take care of his clothes? Oh, well. That's what they're here for. 

Assuming Ghoul's not running around naked right now (and, honestly, that's not an impossibility), he's currently wearing his only other shirt, so Party doesn't look around anymore, just closing the blind again and stumbling back across the messy floor. Mission one, complete.

They take their unfortunate prize into the kitchen and immediately toss it in the sink, grabbing a bucket of water and a bar of soap from their last trip to the market. Wetting the soap, they then tackle the worst parts of the shirt: the armpits, the neck, the stains on the chest and at the hem. The stains don't come all the way out, but they're used to that. At least it's cleaner than it was. 

After rinsing out the soap with as little water as possible, they take the shirt outside and drape it over the length of rope running between the diner and the shed. It's hot out today; it'll dry in no time.

Back inside now, they go into their own room and pull out their sewing basket. It's an old plastic thing from the city, but Jet had painted it for them a few months ago, blues and reds and yellows and greens. And glitter. Lots of glitter. 

They pull out a bent needle and a spool of yellow thread. They'd dyed it themself, from a batch of BL/ind-white that's always easy to get out here. Then their scissors, a heavy metal pair that they'd found in the diner when they'd first moved in, shiny from recent sharpening. They take these things out to the dining room and set them up on a table, snipping off a length of thread and expertly threading it through the needle.

They go back outside. And, look at that! The shirt's already dry. As they pull it from the line, they hesitantly bring it to their nose and sniff; thank the _Witch,_ it just smells like zones-soap and not months and months of built-up Ghoul-sweat and grime. They drape it over their arm and take it back inside, to the table they've already got set up.

Just as they're about to start sewing, they hear the door creak open. They whip their head toward the door, heart pounding, but it's only Jet Star. They relax, shooting him a grin. "Hey, Jet! Where ya been all morning?"

"Chimp needed someone to run 'er over to Doctor D's," he says, sauntering over and dropping a kiss on the top of their head, then his arm over their shoulders as he leans down to peer at their work. "Whatcha workin' on?"

"Ghoul's shirt," they say, scooting over so he can sit down next to them. "Noticed the other day it had some holes."

Jet hums in response, leaning on them a little. He's warm, and a little damp. Well, it _is_ hot out there. If they _have_ to deal with someone's sweat other than their own, they'll choose Jet-sweat over stale, nasty Ghoul-sweat any day. 

Party lets themself enjoy the companionable silence as they get back to work. The yellow band around the neck of the shirt is coming off in two different places, the fabric wearing thin and the threads straining and snapping. It's easy enough to repair, and they go ahead and stitch around the whole neck to prevent it from coming up again too soon.

The threads at the hem of the shirt are coming out, too, and they stitch that down next. The fabric is black, not yellow, but they think Ghoul will like the extra ring of color at the hem.

They stitch up the underarms, too, because it seems like the whole _shirt_ is just falling apart at the seams. _Ugh,_ if Ghoul would just wear more than _two goddamn shirts,_ they wouldn't get to this state.

But, whatever. Ghoul's two shirts are important to him, for some reason, so Party's going to make sure they last him as long as possible.

Then they come to the Main Problem. The problem that had alerted Party in the first place.

"What's wrong?" Jet asks, apparently noticing something in Party's face, or maybe just the fact that they've been sitting still for too long with a project in front of them.

They sigh, tilting the shirt toward him. "There's a giant hole in the side," they say. "Looks like he prob'ly ripped it on somethin' jagged, and there's a bunch'a fabric missin'. Too much to just stitch it closed. I gotta patch it."

"So patch it," Jet says. "Er--wait. Do you need me to move? So you can get fabric?" He starts to slide away, and Party snorts, dropping the shirt to reach out and grab his hand, holding him there.

"No," they say. "I mean, _yeah,_ I do, but first I need your help."

He leans back in again. "Okay. What's up?"

"I need to figure out how to patch it," they say. "I mean, this is _Ghoul's shirt_ . He loves this thing! If I slap a big yellow square over it, is he gonna freak out? I don't have a black to match this. I can't just _hide_ the hole." They lay the shirt flat and pinch the edges together. "See, if I just stitch it like this, I could _maybe_ hide it, but then it's gonna be tighter on 'im an' it's gonna feel weird, an' then you _know_ he won't wear it an' he'll only have _one_ shirt. I gotta patch it."

"Why don't you just ask Ghoul what he wants?"

"He doesn't know I'm doin' this! You know he always gets pissed at me when I talk about the shit condition of his clothes."

"That's because he thinks you're making fun of him. Or nagging him. I dunno, somethin'. Uh, I think Ghoul'd be fine with somethin' funky, as long as it didn't mess with how the shirt feels on the inside."

Party sighs, then nods. "Big yellow square it is," they say, and nudge Jet out of the booth to go and fetch the fabric.

\-----

It's about three hours later that Ghoul and Kobra come back home from wherever they've been, both of them covered in sweat and streaked with grease. It's about time for everyone to turn in for their afternoon nap, to sleep through the hottest part of the day.

Party watches as the two of them drop into separate booths, stripping off their jackets and sprawling out to cool down. Carefully, they pick up the neatly-folded fabric in front of them and deposit the bundle on the table beside Ghoul. Their heart is pounding something _fierce_. They hope Ghoul won't be pissed at them for taking his shirt.

"What's this?" He asks, sitting up with a groan. He grabs the fabric with one hand and holds it up, blinking. "A shirt? _My_ shirt? Party--" His eyes land on the yellow stitches around the bottom, and he brings it closer to his face, holding it with both hands. "What the fuck? You--" He turns it in his hands, eyes landing on the big yellow patch on the side. He frowns, and Party's nails dig into their palms.

"There was a hole," they tell him. "Ah, I didn't want it to get bigger and make it unwearable, but I couldn't just close it up... so...." They shrug.

Wordlessly, Ghoul runs his fingers over the patch, then sticks his hand inside the shirt and rubs against it from that side. Slowly, his frown morphs into a smile, and then a full-blown grin that he aims directly at Party.

"Holy _shit_ , Par, thanks!" he says, and Party feels so _relieved_ that he likes it, that they didn't ruin his shirt for him. "I didn't even think to ask ya to fix it. Just kinda thought I'd wear it 'til it fell off my body." He lets out a bark of laughter, and Party rolls their eyes.

"You _would_ , garbage pail," they tease. "Anyway, I strengthened the stitches on most'a the seams, so they shouldn't be comin' out again too soon. Lemme know if you get anymore holes, though. I can fix 'em up pretty quick."

"Fuck yeah. Thanks, asshole." Ghoul pauses, the shirt dropping into his lap. "Hey, d'ya think you could fix this one, too?" His hands move to the hem of the shirt he's currently wearing, the shirt that's arguably even grimier than the one Party's just washed and patched, and Party throws their hands up to stop him.

"You better fuckin' scrub the hell outta that shit before I'm puttin' my hands anywhere _near_ your nastiness _ever_ again!" they exclaim, and Ghoul drops his hands, laughing.

Looks like their mission was a success.

**Author's Note:**

> party and ghoul love each other but neither will ever admit it out loud uvu
> 
> thanks so much for reading!! if you enjoyed this fic, please feel free to leave kudos or a comment! i'd love to know your thoughts! 💖
> 
> for those who are interested:  
> i have finished writing Playground Eyes and will be uploading the remaining chapters before the end of the year. They just need a little more editing first!  
> i will be participating in nanowrimo next month (november 2020), working on an original project. i won't be working on any fics during this time!  
> starting in december, i plan on posting new chapters of once you go hazy! i will also be doing some reworking of previously-posted chapters to make sure everything fits in with the storyline now that i have an actual concrete plan for where the story is headed. the edits/rewrites will be noted on each chapter and posted before the next chapter is uploaded.
> 
> thanks for reading! 💖


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